Testament
by AnthemGlass
Summary: A historian helps translate a startling new find:  three scrolls of a Roman Centurion by the name of Marcus Flavius Aquila.
1. First Scroll

_**Testament**_

_**The Three Scrolls of a Centurion**_

**First Scroll**

"I'm telling you, this guy is a genius," Dr. Harrison said adjusting the bag holding one of the scrolls.

His assistant, Michael nodded trying to adjust his glass as he lugged the other two scrolls along with Dr. Harrison's laptop bag up the steps of the beautiful, suburban home they'd just parked in front of.

"He reads these texts like it's his first language," Dr. Harrison marveled as he rapped hard on the door. "And you know I was his TA once upon a time?"

Michael nodded before jumping as the door opened.

"David Harrison! Come on in! Let's see what you have!" Dr. Martin Asher cheered in his usual joyous tone. "And who's this? Another poor slave to your researching adventures?"

"Michael Winters, sir," Michael tried to extend a hand for a shake but the threat of dropping the scrolls made him think twice.

"Ah poor soul," Martin laughed. Martin had long since retired from his professorship and had looked forward to retirement. What he hadn't realized was just how much he'd miss the work when it was gone. That's why young colleagues like David Harrison were such a blessing. "Just bring them up stairs and we'll put them in my study. I'd help you, but I'm afraid in my state I may do more harm than good."

"Dr. Asher, this is an incredible find," Dr. Harrison said as the walked up the stairs towards the study.

"David for the last time call me Martin, you've earned it," Martin laughed.

"It's a three part scroll collection found in a beautiful, ornate chest from my last excavation."

Martin held up a hand, "That's all I need to know, I'd like to look at this with some fresh eyes if you don't mind." The three piled into the study. Martin pulled up two chairs opposite of his comfortable, ratty desk chair he'd used for so many years. Arranging the three scrolls in front of him Martin felt from the moment he touched them that he knew their order.

"This is the first?" Martin asked placing a careful hand on one of the scrolls.

"We think so, how'd you know?" Dr. Harrison laughed as Michael marveled at Martin's trained eye.

"Call it a hunch," Martin winked as he began unraveling the scroll. "Let's get started."

After about twenty minutes of silently watching Martin's eyes dance about the page soaking in all the knowledge it provided, Dr. Harrison and Michael had both become so used to the quiet, stale atmosphere that when Martin spoke they both jumped.

"Well here we go," Martin said. "It has been four wonderful years since our last adventure…"

_It has been four wonderful years since our last adventure. Adventure as is classified by the general perception, though life itself is on its own one single exciting journey. _

_Though our return was marked with nothing but a slave's freedom, both he and I knew of our accomplishment. The Eagle of the Ninth had been restored to its place of honor among the fallen brethren of the Ninth._

"Does he mean THE Eagle?" Michael gasped wide-eyed.

"Seems so," Martin frowned. "That's impossible…"

Dr. Harrison chuckled as Martin became totally enthralled in this new world that had been laid out in front of him. The things this scroll was suggesting were definitely too incredible to be true.

_Whether or not those fallen brethren are remembered by their Roman or Briton names, they hold with them the honor of true warriors and men of valor. It pained me to bid farewell to a good many of them, especially our new but good friend Guern._

_ Esca's warriors, which is exactly what they were despite my leading them in final battle, proved themselves among the bravest and most honorable I've had the privilege to serve with._

"I'm confused, what battle are they even talking about?" Dr. Harrison interrupted.

"My friends, this seems to be a radical find. I think most of what we read from here will not be recorded in our current histories," Martin replied, a twinge of annoyance cast in his voice as he tried to keep reading.

_The Seal People, though savage, fought too and without Esca I would have never acknowledged such a fact. Esca has brought to my eyes the light of knowledge that all men, no matter what their practices or who their gods are, are men nonetheless._

_ Since our return to Hadrian's Wall, Esca and I have challenged ourselves to settle. Both akin to the adventurous lifestyles of warriors, our bodies, admittedly mine more than he, have reached that threshold where any extreme duress could be the last and lead to a broken body as I once feared I'd be._

_ That feeling of loneliness that used to accompany my broken fears has alleviated since my time with Esca. Just knowing that he is there with me, by my side in settlement, allows my heart to handle the static and stale life of a farmer so much more._

_ However now many years into the practice of farming I've found the life not at all as relaxing and boring as I once feared and now wished. Constant upkeep of the crops and the livestock keeps Esca and I running from sunup to sundown. _

_ I find myself praying to the gods for a chance to relax, almost wishing upon my leg to give out as it once had. Those days when the pain is simply too much I find myself pushing harder than I would in battle. Esca never allows me to push too hard. His ever-knowing gaze keeps a watchful eye on my wellbeing, which in the end is a good thing because I alone find difficulty in stopping for mere pain or discomfort._

_ Esca knows of the body more so than any Roman doctor. His acute knowledge of how and where to press on my leg creates beautiful alleviations from my incredible pains that may flare at any time. Esca knows that pain is not a sign of weakness but a warning of impending failure and that avoidance of such relies in rest and rejuvenation._

_ A year ago almost to the day I learned of Esca's extent of knowledge of the body. It had been a particularly cold day, an early sign of a long and harsh winter. My damned leg had been reduced to a fury of pain, which had caused my mouth utterance of names and phrases one does not normally hear outside of military barracks._

_ Esca, the understanding and wonderful man he is, ignored my offensive language and obviously misguided anger. Though his knowing smirk at the time only enraged me further, I now laugh at the memory and I am pleased that Esca finds similar humor._

_ Ignoring my muttered curses, Esca's trained hands began to rub my leg slightly rougher than I was used to. Though the initial pain was greater, the reward of relief far surpassed the excess pain. I remember saying to him "Your wonderful hands I wish them all about my body." I fear that maybe paraphrase, but considering the mouth I had adopted that day, the censorship is likely a welcomed aspect._

_ Esca smirked again, this I remember clearly without such paraphrase. That smirk knowing and yet different he replied to my praise with, "You'd best be wary of what you wish as it can always threaten to come to pass." _

_ With that mere joking threat I felt another new feeling, however unlike the added pressure, this sensation was better than anything I'd felt of the like and there was certainly no pain. Esca's wonderful, slender fingers slid up my tunic…_

"WOAH!" Dr. Harrison slammed his hand against the table. "What the hell is going on here?"

Michael chuckled lightly knowing that Dr. Harrison hadn't expected anything like this.

Martin felt flush with heat from the scene he'd just seen painted in his mind. He'd allowed himself to become lost in this wonderful past world that he felt he had such a personal connection. The ability to read such texts in such a personal way had always been Martin's strongest ally in his historical studies and research.

"I'd say we had two lovers on our hands," Martin shrugged. "It was not uncommon for body slaves at the time to be used for sexual purposes, male or female. Sometimes even a slave would be freed so that the master and the freed slave could marry."

"This is going to be interesting to write about," Dr. Harrison shook his head pondering the book deals awaiting this find. "Okay, keep going."

_Esca's wonderful, slender fingers slid up my tunic causing me to jump in fright. However we had both noticed my instant of hesitation, my second of desire shining through my worthless attempt to suggest that I had not been dreaming of a moment like this. _

_ He limited this physical interaction to just his hands but the action was still no less beautiful. I had wondered if perhaps Esca had felt such feelings as I felt for him, but my fear had overcast my ability to ask or act._

_ I had feared when he was my slave that any attempt to further a physical relationship would come across as a command rather than an offer. Only once Esca had his freedom and yet still stayed strong by my side had I begun to consider exploring our relationship more._

_ At this point it seemed that Esca had felt some similar feelings as I. My mind, ever overthinking, was no exception that night as Esca had to sooth both my physical manhood followed by my mental stability. Even with my Roman birthmark, Esca still allowed me to love and returned with his own._

_ For a discharged Centurion with no mother and father, the idea that something like love could exist always seems a fool's notion. Even more so when that love is for a specimen like Esca, opposite in every way except for the one aspect society deems he should be. _

_ That day was about love. A love unspoken, but a love acted upon in only a way that Esca could. He had always been one of actions and so few words. Perhaps that's why he and I are such a flush pair. And perhaps that's why I thought it pertinent to act a scribe and copy my life. _

_ Even now, by the light of a small flame I write with only the sound of my quill scratching and the faint, but oh so beautiful rhythm of Esca's breathing in our bed a few steps away. He will be angry with me in the morning when I am not full of the sprightliness one garners from a full night of rest, but then again some nights it is his fault for our lack of sleep._

_-Marcus Flavius Aquila_

"This guy is funny," Dr. Harrison laughed.

"Wow," Michael breathed in disbelief. "This is incredible."

"You can say that again!" Martin smiled. He felt a surge of warmth from the words. Having always been a bit of a romantic Martin couldn't help but smile.

"Well old man, it's probably your bedtime!" Dr. Harrison joked.

"Eight o'clock is even a little early for me," Martin replied. "But I'd love more time with these scrolls."

"No problem. I'll leave them here. We'll be back tomorrow to finish up the translations of the other two," Dr. Harrison shrugged.

Michael's mouth fell agape at the interchanged he'd just witnessed. "Oh Michael," Dr. Harrison chuckled, "if there's anybody I truly trust on this planet it's Martin Asher. He'll take good care of them."

"Why thank you son," Martin was honored.

"Where's the ole' ball and chain?" Dr. Harrison asked as they made their way to the front door.

"Still at the bar, can't believe we still own that damned thing," Martin laughed.

"Jeez you guys are troopers," Dr. Harrison shook his head. "I'll be stopping by sometime for a round of drinks in celebration of the find.

"And you know it'll be on the house!"


	2. Second Scroll

**Second Scroll**

Martin chuckled to himself as he shut the front door. He did love having visitors. Some nights got lonely in the house.

Martin made his way up the stairs to get ready for bed, though he knew he'd stay up for a few more hours. However as he passed the study he saw the scrolls. They almost beckoned him to continue reading. It was as though they could speak and that Martin needed to hear what they had to say.

Carefully rolling up the first scroll, marveling at its preservation Martin said, "Must have been a fucking great box."

The second scroll was to the right of the first. Martin, ever with care, unrolled it and stared at the ink for a bit. He couldn't be sure but he guessed there had been some time between the scrolls.

The first sentence confirmed his suspicions.

_I haven't written in many moons. Seems as though I've allowed the farm to truly command my days. That and I still remember the scathing I received the first time I spent most of my night writing. With Esca's permission I've started again._

_ The first time I wrote for myself but without reason. I wrote what I thought and felt because I wondered if someday it would be read for a purpose. Now I know that purpose is for you. _

_ Three years ago you came into our lives most unexpectedly. Just out of the age with need for a wet nurse, your mother came to us for help. She must have been among the trees and forest for a long while as she was only flesh and bone._

_ Without ability to speak we were able to discern that she was a slave in a Roman household. She had run for a reason we could only assume was you. However as both Esca and I know, the woods of Britain can be very unforgiving and though a slave, she was not a Briton. _

_ With the utmost sadness she did not conquer her ailments. She was not with us for more than a day. Esca believes she only allowed herself the escape of death once she knew that her son was in the hands of someone to help. And with that we know that she loved you so dearly._

_ I stared at your large indigo eyes with fear and worry, with no intention of keeping you. However Esca, being the wonderful and beautiful man I know him to be, picked you up without hesitation and held you for a time enough to make me jealous._

_ "What shall we call him?" Esca had asked but I did not hear. All I heard was your faint cooing and my own heartbeat racing at the idea of fatherhood, something I had never even briefly considered. As one whose family was stolen from him I hated the idea of making someone only to steal myself away and cause them to suffer my fate._

_ Esca does not like it when I speak of my life and fate in the negative as he lovingly acknowledges from time to time, my fate was never truly ill, it was just an uneven ride to get here. Bumps on the road through life he'd say._

_ So in hopes that your life's road would never be as bumpy and uneven as mine I decided not pass along my name. Instead I passed a name symbolic of the honorable, man I dream you to grow into. As I am sure you will have no problem achieving greatness with a father as wonderful as Esca and such great namesakes, I only hope I don't hinder your way, Lucius Cunoval Aquila._

_ Even by my quill three years later I doubt my instincts and abilities as a father. Esca claims it to be normal but how can someone so sure of themselves as Esca claim these feelings as normal if they in their greatness never experience it? Perhaps it is because he does in fact experience it, just for my sake your father does not show it._

Martin couldn't help but chuckle. He grabbed a small post-it from his desk drawer and quickly jotted down a reminder to call his son. They'd talked a few days ago when he called frantic with worry that his own son was sick with a fever. Martin told to calm down and listen to his wife who in the background could be heard trying to sooth both a crying child and his father.

Of course his grandson had been fine and Martin had been happy to receive the call. Better to have a conversation in which his son doesn't imagine the world falling down around him.

_I write to you today because today is a special day. Today you milked your first goat by Esca's word. I am sorry I missed such a momentous occasion but I know I'll be able to see you do much more than that in the coming years. As I witness the passage of time so quickly now through your growth I realize that no one has as much time in their lives. No road is quite as long as you think it is. Heed my warning, when you find a maiden of your suiting you'll see as I do._

_ Of course you'll still have love from Esca and I if a maiden is not of your suiting and you are more drawn to a Centurion, but we both figure that after so many years of just us men in the household we imagine you'll be craving a woman's sensibilities in no time._

_ I wonder one day if you will ever receive your Roman birthmark, or will you take after your other father and remain untouched by a Centurion helmet._

_ No matter your decisions I will teach you how to read and write. I will teach you my Roman tongue and Esca will teach his. I will gift these two scrolls to you one day and you will reflect on us, hopefully with fondness in your heart._

_ These promises are of no difficulty to keep. I would like to add countless for promises, promises to rid you of hurt, promises of only happiness, promises of a completely smooth road as Esca would say. But those promises I cannot possibly keep. However with Esca's help I promise that whenever hardship does in fact befall you, we will be there with open arms. If you are reduced to a broken man as I was so many years ago, Esca and I will be here to pick up the pieces and mend as best we can._

_ And I pray that if such a curse does befall you, I hope with all my heart that they need not reopen the wound. Even then Esca has proven a most skilled assistant in such a process. However the likely hood of such troubles is nil as the Gods placed that burden upon me to help clarify my family line._

_ That is what you are young Lucius, family. Esca, you, and I are family and we will always be family._

_ I have no knowledge of where Esca or myself will be when you read the scrolls, I just pray that you hold them close to your heart as I have held you so many times since conquering my fears. _

_ I pray that wherever you are in this great Roman land is the exact place you dreamed of being as it is for I with Esca. And I pray that you forgive me for my graphic depiction of my love for your father Esca. I write these in love for you and him. Only you will be able to read this script. I would tell your father every word I have written here, but I suspect that he will silently decline knowing, as he, in his wonderful air of mystery, never pries in to the matters of another._

_ I love you my son. I love Esca with the surest hand and heart I possess and I hope, pray, and dream with all my body, mind, and soul that you will find the same one day._

_For Lucius_

_-Marcus Flavius Aquila_

Martin carefully waved a hand over the open scroll. The words jumped off of the paper into his mind. Martin could picture every sight, smell, and emotion exactly as he assumed Marcus had felt them. Centuries had passed and yet a father's love seemingly never changed.


	3. Third Scroll

**Third Scroll**

There was something about that third scroll. Martin was almost afraid to open it. Downstairs the front door opened and shut. A hushed whisper came up from the bottom of the stair, "Honey, I'm home."

Martin was about to reply when he unraveled the third scroll. The first thing he noticed was the small blots of ink. They were letters that had been obscured by drops of water. Too sparring to be rain but too spread to be a simple spill. He'd forgotten his intent to answer his love.

_I fear this to be my last opportunity to write. When one nears that old age the world is witnessed through such a wonderfully different point of view. It is impossible to describe without having lived a lifetime. Much like knowing everything will end, but not fearing it as the young do._

_I've been thinking, perhaps we all have lived a lifetime, by chance maybe we experience life over and over we just forget our past in our infancy._

_ Lucius, you have made your father and I so proud. I must speak for my dearly departed Esca, however I know how he felt. He, like I, could not be more proud of the man you've become. It saddens me that Esca was never able to meet your beautiful daughter. She is an absolute blessing as is your simply magnificent and stunningly beautiful wife._

_ I may rest easy in my old age knowing that there is a loving family inhabiting this farm and by this crazy ride that we call life it turns out that my own son and his wonderful family will care for it and allow it to continue on for years past my time._

Martin smiled. A clang from the kitchen followed by a hushed, "Shite!" Made him chuckle. He was never good in the kitchen. Sure in his heyday he could mix a mean drink, but the kitchen managing had always been Martin's doing. Martin would go down and help him when he finished reading.

_Permit me a short trip through my life's happiest memories, my son. When I ponder as to the happiest moment of my life I nearly always start when I was little. Happiness then equated to happiness from ignorance. Not knowing of the darkness is the easiest defense from it. My father's death, though disappearance at the time, was enough to open my eyes. Even with said ignorance, however it still is not my fondest memory._

_ My time as a Centurion, though filled with honor and pride could not be considered as in old age, like those of few years, the idea of war and killing seems an unnecessary notion._

_ Then something wonderful happened. The first time I saw my Esca was a moment I will remember until my last day. I did not care for the games held in Calleva and I did not particularly want to be there on that day. However my uncle ever wanting to cheer me up decided it was the proper medicine to my ailment of depression from my early discharge. _

_ At least at the games I felt the slightest bit of adrenaline that I always felt in battle. When Esca appeared with only his trousers and a measly sword and shield I used such adrenaline as an excuse for my heart's unusual thumping._

_ Once Esca had proven he would not beg for his life I could not hold my tongue any longer. This in fact was the first time I ever professed my love for your father. However I did it in such a way that disguised my feelings from everyone around me and even from myself. I took his life in my hands and begged and urged for his savior. By the gods it was so._

_ Of course there were times later when I may have seemed happier. Even days where I legitimately believed I was. In the end it was that day that will live on inside me as the happiest memory I would have because I chose to display my heart and win my love. Such strength and bravery can never be measured on a battlefield in armor, that I know to be the truth._

"Jesus," Martin breathed. "These guys had it rough there for a while."

_Love is such a mysterious thing. I do not kid myself, nor did your father ever truly hide from me, the fact that our initial relationship was one of disdain and requirement on your father's side._

_ I just thank the gods that I was able to turn that into what we have today. We together turned that. Despite my Roman birthmark as the Britons would call it. That scar from under my chin. That scar Esca never possessed. That scar that alerted us to your namesake's true identity. That scar Esca never allowed to affect our love and devotion to each other._

Martin rubbed underneath his own chin, curious that he'd have a birthmark in a seemingly similar place.

_It was one year ago and a handful of moons that Esca's recently smoothed road came to an end. I haven't wept as I did that day since my own father's disappearance. I would venture to say I possibly cried more tears than ever before. The unimaginable loneliness I felt consumed me and I allowed darkness to overcome my entire existence. However, after those first few hard days without him, I realized, that he was still with me in you._

_And I thank the gods everyday._

_ And if we do live multiple lifetimes like I had suggested so many years ago, I will spend each and every lifetime searching for my Esca, as I know now that I am not one whole human being, but a half. And for a full and complete existence all I must do is find my better one. And he is Esca._

_-Marcus Flavius Aquila_

Martin was so overcome with emotion. No translation had ever affected him like this before. A single tear slid from his wrinkled cheek and splashed silently on the scroll. A small blot of ink morphed from the single letter the tear had struck. As Martin silently cried, careful now of his teardrops, he realized what those blots of ink were.

They were the tears of a Centurion. Marcus Flavius Aquila, crying as he wrote the memory of his lost love Esca. His lost love that he knew he'd find again in another life.

"Oi, you're up?" Allan said in the doorway of the study. "Why are ya cryin?"

Martin looked up from the scroll. Allan, beautiful Allan. Seventy-three years had been good to the man who still ran the family pub. Beautiful Allan who'd ignored Martin's very American existence even though he was treading on British land, digging up their past as he'd joke.

"Esca?" Martin said standing from his chair staring into the eyes of his lover of over fifty years.

Allan returned a puzzled stare. "Is that Latin or something? Have I heard it before?"

Martin slowly made his way to his husband, still crying though no longer considering the third scroll. Instead he considered this: He considered that Marcus Flavius Aquila had in fact been right. We spend each and every reincarnation searching for our true perfect fit.

Martin placed a hand on his Allan's cheek, "I love you so much."

"Aye, and I love you," Allen or Esca replied.

Martin could only smile. Martin or perhaps Marcus Flavius Aquila could only smile.


End file.
